


and all agraving, you can't sleep at night

by missmonokome



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, If you wanna read crappy pretentious poetry in writing then yayY, Low-Key Smut, M/M, One Shot, Tronnor, city AU, freeform idk the terms man, just messy dramatic shit, this is for u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmonokome/pseuds/missmonokome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sir?" He spoke up with a soft smirk. "What is a pretty being like you doing on a lonely night like this?" His voice was sweet and raspy, ruined from years of nicotine. Smoke filtered out between his lips, dyeing the sky a bit more grey. </p><p>Or</p><p>Connor meets Troye one day, both oblivious of each other's state of mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and all agraving, you can't sleep at night

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank CALLmeKat and her wonderful music for getting me through my exams and basically all of 2015.
> 
> So yeah. I need to update my other fic. But instead I wrote this mediocre Drabble. 
> 
> All the scenes are all fragments.  
> Fuck. I need to stop doing that. 
> 
> Title from Tiger Head by CALLmeKat
> 
> * there are mentions of suicide briefly in the fic - not of either in the pairing, I'll tell you that

The first time Connor saw him was in the street corner between the abandoned pharmacy and an almost anonymous pub - Blue's Forest. It was nearly 12 AM; it stroke such a time on the vintage-inspired clock tower a couple of blocks away. It was also in the atmosphere; night cancels out the animalistic undertone of day - like mixing a bit of white paint into a warm palette. 

The boy had a military green jacket on. Pins and buttons of various shininess covered the front. A violet ribbon looped around his pale neck and was tied in dead knot. He was smoking and he was looking at Connor. There is a silver lighter in between his knuckles. He smiled through the ghoulish, jumping flame. 

"Sir?" He spoke up with a soft smirk. "What is a pretty being like you doing on a lonely night like this?" His voice was sweet and raspy, ruined from years of nicotine. Smoke filtered out between his lips, dyeing the sky a bit more grey. 

/

A couple of days ago Connor was dragged into a double date.  
Wedged between his tiny apartment and the brink of mental isolation, he agreed. They spent two hours squeezed into a train that traveled to the eastern side of X City. There, the fields had tall acorn trees and tiny yellow flowers that bloomed in this painful winter weather. They sat in such a field and watched a black-and-white film in an open-air theater. 

Mid-way, Connor glanced behind him and his date. Alfie and Zoe were silently kissing. He had her cheek in his hands, tucking her hair back behind her ear. Her blouse was unbuttoned; Connor can see the white skin peeking underneath. Alfie kept pulling her up into him like she was going to suddenly spring up and disintegrate. 

Connor wondered if they're gonna get married one day.

The girl he was with, Tessa (was that her name?), tried to hold his hands. She had pretty blonde hair and pink lipstick on. Connor let their mouths touch continuously. She kissed him like she understands his insides. Connor frowned. He wished he can X-Ray his brain and wore his bloody thoughts around his neck. He stopped her before his pants got pulled down. To watch the film, that was his lame reason. 

At the end of this goddamned movie, the girl stubbed her cigarette on the windowsill. She dialed his number and put it in her dress pocket. Took her sandals off. Then she dropped herself from the 31-floor building. Seconds before she plummeted, she had the most dazed look on her face. The boy she loved stared in confusion an ocean away, listening to the sound of wind on his phone.  
Connor's blood ran cold. 

But Tessa shrugged. "Called it. Did you see all those shots the director used to focus her eyes? Full of holes. Some things you just can't fix."

Connor never saw Tessa again. Her mother got really sick, Alfie said. 

/

Connor is in front of him.

Curly hair. Brown. Sad and cold eyes lined with black in the lash-line. He had a not-so-prominent mole under his right eye. Lips painted the color of dying red roses. Purple at the edges.

"Got a flame?" The boy whispered, motioning to his now dead lighter. He has dried blood on his neck. 

Connor mumbles a no. The temperature is slowly creeping downwards on his body. 

The other boy rolls his eyes slyly. He licks his chapped lips and rummages through his jacket pockets for a match. The more you're addicted to cigarettes, the more likely you're to forget things like this.

Connor stares at his mouth. He's so cold. The veins in his bodies are slowly crystallizing; he feels feverish. The red color  
in the boy's lips is brighter than blood; Connor's head pounds. 

He extends an arm and grips the other's relaxed left wrist, pushing him back into the brick wall. The boy groans at the sudden impact. He tilts his head a bit and closes his electric blue eyes. 

"Ow," he said. "Watch it, there's  
scratch marks on my back." A soft chuckle.

Connor kept him pinned against the surface with his legs. "Do you need money?" He whispered. The city swallows up millions of salaries and allowances only to throw up shiny, materialistic things. 

"Nah. It's the night before February 14. though. If I really want something, I need someone to buy me flowers and shit." 

"Looking for love?"

"Love? From whom? A office boy like you?" He throws his head back and laughs carelessly. "What would your mum say if she saw me, hm? A dirty and heartbroken Australian boy you found on the streets. Don't toss a word like 'love' around. It loses meaning." 

Connor reaches up and touches his own hand to the boy's scarlet mouth, running his fingers along his bottom lip. He twists the skin with his nails, leaving tiny crescent-shaped indents. He wants to hear the other boy cry out. 

He doesn't. He lets Connor do whatever he wants, watching him with dead, sad eyes. 

Connor senses his resolve crumbling. Every inch of his body is shivering. 

When he was younger, Connor would scream out whenever the temperature dropped. Or when he felt cold. His parents called him overly sensitive and dramatic. But when the coldness settled into his bones, Connor always pictured himself falling into isolation. This is it. No one can make him warm again. He's stuck forever in his stupid, limb, dead body. Ugly thoughts. That's why he screamed.

The other boy bites down on Connor's finger. Hard enough to leave teeth marks. Then he leans forward to kiss his palm.

"Here," he smiled. "Now we both left something on each other." His hot breath lingers on certain spots of Connor's face. 

The boy is the palest blue. And the rest of the world is a brick orange. Connor's breathing starts to speed up. He fists a handful of a thin maroon sweater and goes to pecks his jawline. 

"Don't do it," the boy says with a sigh. "I'll make you even colder." But his pupils are dilating, turning his gem-like eyes into two tiny black holes. 

"We both want this," Connor hears the choked-back noises against the lanky male's throat. He gets bolder. His thigh presses harshly at the place between his legs. "Don't lie."

The other opens his mouth only to get cut off. 

Connor goes to cup his cheek and kisses him hard in the mouth. His hands push through his hair, gripping tightly. The boy's skin smells like the wine-colored cologne from Hollister.  
It's sickening. And Connor takes it all in.

Connor has his hands jammed up the other's sweater before he's roughly pushed away a couple of centimeters. 

"I'm Troye," the boy touches the purple marks sucked into his neck, unfazed. His lips are bleeding from the messy kiss. Connor bit him that hard; he tastes the iron in his own mouth. 

Connor takes Troye back to his apartment. 

/

Sometimes Connor wonders if he can just marry/kiss/fuck some random girl and get along with the universe. 

Like the rest of the city's population, he wants someone to listen to him laugh, talk, break down at three AM. To go to a library's attic and lay there for a week. To travel with.

"Have you found a girl?" His parents ask. He smiles and shakes his head. 

Some things you just can't fix.

/

Troye leaves Connor's sheets smelling like him. It's weird since he washed it as soon as the boy left. It's a blur what happened that night. 

He lasts about half a week before he walks into Blue's Forest himself, looking. He flirts with the bartender and gets a couple of free drinks. 

"Can I ask you about someone?" He rotates his wrist, watching the whiskey turn to a dull amber under the neon lights.

"Sure," Fei said. Her eyelashes were droopy from black mascara. "I know just about everyone." 

"Do you know someone named Troye? He said he took care of the bars here on the weekends." Connor feels something similar to liquid fire pool into his stomach. 

Fei frowns. "Haven't heard of that one. Odd sort of name. What does he look like?"

Connor squinted, like he can picture Troye in the distance. "Eh, lanky with brown curly hair. Blue eyes."

Fei's face lost a bit of color. "Um," she turned to grab a couple of glasses. Her voice turns up an octave. "Have you read the news recently?"

/

Connor goes back to his apartment complex and steals a newspaper roll from his neighbor's mailbox. 

It doesn't take him that long to find it. 

"Anonymous Body Found on the Streets: Frozen to Death."

The date is marked February 12th. A night before Connor went to soak up his pride.

He stares at the corpse's picture. Lips red, hair curly, eyes left in a daze. Full of holes.

 

/

**Author's Note:**

> Yo - selfless promo 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed(?) that. 
> 
> I'm @horrorworror on tumblr & weheartit if u wanna check me out (⌯͒▾ ˑ̫ ▾⌯͒)ฅ⃛
> 
> Also I have another fic with a title I really regret ;,D 
> 
> So - have a nice day, and thanks for reading


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